


Spring Fancy

by AirgiodSLV



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-27
Updated: 2004-05-27
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: She'd never thought about it before, Dom with Orlando. Or with any of them, really; she's never had very good radar for that sort of thing, so she usually doesn't bother trying to find out how a person swings unless it's someone she's interested in.





	Spring Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> For the birthday of the incredible [](https://cupiscent.livejournal.com/profile)[cupiscent](https://cupiscent.livejournal.com/), the only person I would ever consider writing het for, because she begged so nicely, and because she deserves everything that she asks for and more. I'm sorry it's late, love. With many thanks to [](https://azewewish.livejournal.com/profile)[azewewish](https://azewewish.livejournal.com/) for the encouragement and the beta.
> 
> Warnings: Het content.

Miranda blows hair out of her eyes, turns her head to fight the breeze and looks around for someone from wardrobe. She sees them gathered around Karl, who is filming one of his sequences while she and Dom take a break. Dom has slipped off somewhere, undoubtedly up to no good. She sighs, ignoring the slight twinge of boredom and loneliness, and settles against one of the equipment trailers to wait.  
  
Movement catches her eye when she turns, and she realizes that Dom hasn't gone far; is on the other side of the trailer, in fact, and with Orlando, who isn't in these shots but will be needed shortly. Their heads are bent close together, and one of Dom's hands is placed just above Orlando's hip. Both of them are wearing conspiratorial smiles, and Miranda wonders what they're up to before she's startled by what looks like a quick brush of Dom's lips across Orlando's cheek before they part and head in different directions; Orlando to the makeup trailers, Dom towards the set.  
  
And oh, shit, Dom's seen her, and she feels like she's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar as he gives her a lengthy, measuring look. Then he turns away, and she breathes out in relief, head falling back against the trailer.  
  
She'd never thought about it before, Dom with Orlando. Or with any of them, really; she's never had very good radar for that sort of thing, so she usually doesn't bother trying to find out how a person swings unless it's someone she's interested in. Dom with Orlando, though...that would be hot. She can actually see it, can imagine the two of them together at the theatre, or out shopping with matching sunglasses and mischievous grins. She can even see them in bed, although she really shouldn't be thinking about that; Dom's forehead wrinkled in concentration and Orlando's head thrown back, gasping in the throes of complete abandonment.  
  
She definitely shouldn't be thinking about that. Her body shudders, just a tiny tremble, and she can feel the pink stain of a blush on her cheeks. She hopes no one has been watching her, tenses for a moment under the irrational fear that any one of the people nearby will be able to look at her and know exactly what she's thinking.  
  
She squeaks when she takes a step away from the trailer and someone catches her around the waist from behind, pulls her back against his chest, but she knows even before she looks that it's Dom, so she rolls with it, lets him hold her and nudge a leg between her thighs. It's intimate, but Dom has always been intimate with her, casual but close, the way her best friends are when personal space and polite distance have ceased to matter.  
  
"What did you see?" he asks, amusement and teasing laced into his tone. "Or what did you think you saw?"  
  
"You," she answers softly, turning her head just a fraction to feel him closer, not sure whether or not she should push, if he's offended. "I saw you."  
  
"Did you?" he asks, and she wants to tell him yes, that she sees him when he opens up and blossoms, that her heart aches with joy when he stops playing and acting and just smiles. That he's one of the most beautiful people she's ever met when he's just being himself, and that it's that person she saw just a few minutes ago, with a secret glimmer in his eyes and relaxed grace shooting through his every move.  
  
She doesn't, though, because that _would_ be too intimate, and she's starting to feel embarrassed and uncomfortable because of her earlier thoughts, which still echo in her head, Orlando arching and Dom thrusting hard and...  
  
"Only because I was looking at you," he croons. "Beautiful Miranda," and he can't hide the cheeky grin that's sparkling in his eyes, and he takes her off-guard like this, sometimes.  
  
She pushes away from the trailer and covers her guilty flush with a laugh. "Is that so?" she asks, and he looks at her with those gray-green-blue-misted eyes, and she has to cover somehow. She gropes him the way she's seen the guys do, one hand swiftly squeezing through the crotch of his pants. She smiles sweetly at his gasp of surprise, turning back around to settle into his embrace, her back against his broad chest. "Just checking if you're hard," she says innocently, looking out over the set.  
  
She freezes in shock a moment later, when two of his fingers slip between her legs and press upward. Eyes wide, she half-turns in time to see him raise his fingers to his nose and delicately sniff. "Just checking if you're wet," he returns mildly, and she is, she is.  
  
She grinds back against him without thought, surprising him enough that his hands fly to her hips to hold her there against him. His breath is soft on her face, and she's never been good at identifying scents, but she thinks that he smells like warm honey. She wonders what Orlando smells like, and if Dom could tell her.  
  
"Want me to take care of that for you?" Dom asks, equal parts teasing amusement and casual sincerity. No one else, she considers, would have dared. But no one else, she realizes in surprise, would she ever have allowed.  
  
She leans back against him in response, heart racing at the very idea of doing this, here, with him, and drops her hands to the edges of his hobbit cloak to pull it around them. Mild protection from the wind, but more protection from prying eyes that might glance their way and see Dom tug up her long skirt in the back and slide his hands beneath, palms flattening over her stomach. He starts to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, but she outmaneuvers him, and then jerks a little when his fingers settle on her clit through the thin fabric.  
  
"Close your eyes," he whispers next to her ear, and she does, trembling slightly, resting her head back against his shoulder. "Sometimes it's the fantasy you want, yeah?" he continues, and she bites her bottom lip to hold in the moan when his fingertips make a slow circle, barely pressing against her.  
  
She thinks he smells like honey and clover, springtime, and she can almost feel the warm breeze on her skin when she presses her cheek against his, but she doesn't say that. Instead, she says, "You're too sensitive to be straight."  
  
He chuckles into her hair, fingers flexing lightly. "I'm flexible."  
  
She shudders, and his clever fingers tease her through her underwear, and she thinks not of Dom inside _her_ , but inside Orlando. Thinks of him wearing eyeliner and dancing, Orlando in leather with sweat-shiny skin, the two of them moving together under the strobe of dance club lights.  
  
The images start coming faster as his hand increases speed, working her closer and closer to release; Orlando on his back, squirming with Dom's hot mouth on his nipples, and she feels the ghost of that mouth on her skin, on her breasts, even though she's fully clothed and Dom's hands are lower, one still on her hip and the other over her clit, middle finger circling, light and quick, making her breath come fast and shallow, spilling soft, high-pitched noises into the air between them.  
  
She's wondering whether he can actually get her off like this when she feels the familiar buildup start, and she turns her head and inhales, stops breathing until the pressure finally peaks and it rushes over her with the exhale, sighed into the fabric of his costume.  
  
He eases her through the electric zings of pleasure, smoothing one palm over her thigh and cupping her gently while she spasms helplessly against him, gasping choked breaths until her body finally relaxes.  
  
It should be difficult to face him after this, but it's not. He's still the same Dom, knowing grin and laughing eyes, and she feels completely at ease in his arms. He smirks when she raises her eyebrows questioningly, silently offering to reciprocate if he wishes.  
  
"No thanks, love," he drawls, running a fingertip over the corner of her lips, and she can smell her arousal on his skin. "Other plans."  
  
She turns and pulls away, flustered from the easy rejection and the last unexpected aftershocks of orgasm, to make sure that they aren't being called to the set. But Karl is still doing his shots, moving easily among the horses, covered in leather and made-up dirt.  
  
When she turns back, lips already parting on a question, Dom isn't there. She takes a half-step towards the set, and catches sight of a familiar hobbit cloak swirling away in the direction of the makeup trailer, up the steps and in. Her eyes widen and she smiles, delight threatening to bubble out of her throat as she stares after him.  
  
When Viggo spins her onto the dance floor at the barbecue later that night and tells her that her hair smells like springtime, she only laughs.


End file.
